


and above all things, you are golden

by vulcanistics



Category: Football RPF, Germany National Team RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Butlers, Hair Dyeing, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Modern Royalty AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanistics/pseuds/vulcanistics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Bastian kinda likes hair dye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- okay so this fic is inspired by a conversation i had with moderncouchpotato ages ago, something about a rebel prince and greying hair.  
> \- the last fic i wrote and managed to complete was 'freedom of a thousand doves' and ever since then it's been a weird time of writing fics and not completing them, or just not writing at all. but with this fic, i've had a lot of fun and i more or less know where i'm going with it, so i'm looking forward to completing it (hopefully).  
> \- also i watched civil war today and b y e.  
> \- eta: lukas and basti are university students as well. please roll with it.

* * *

  
**wildfire red**

  
“Will you do it?” Bastian asks as he drops the bottle into Lukas’ hand and looks at him expectantly. Lukas stares at his best friend-slash-employer-slash-prince in incredulous horror.

“Your Highness - _Schweini_ , you want me to dye your hair,” he glances down to read the label on the bottle, “wildfire red.”

Bastian nods earnestly. Lukas wonders how Bastian’s going to explain this to the King and Queen.

“But why do you want to dye your hair?”

“Because I’m a Schweinsteiger and our hair is infamous for going grey by the time we turn 21. It’s the fucking family trademark. But I refuse to be a part of it,” declares Bastian, his green-gold eyes flashing with determination.

Lukas’ is aware of the fact that he’s still staring at the Prince in horror. He couldn’t care less. This might very well be one of Bastian’s stupidest ideas, and Bastian has had quite a number of stupid ideas.

“You’ve already got a few grey hairs, Basti,” points out Lukas.

Bastian glares at him, “I’m well aware of that fact. Thanks for pointing out the obvious. And that’s exactly why I want to dye my hair. It’s my...”

And suddenly, Lukas gets it.

“It’s your way of distancing yourself from your family.”

The tension in Bastian’s shoulders disappears and he smiles at Lukas softly,

“Exactly. And as my best friend-slash-butler, it’s your duty to help me.”

“Basti, I never said no but I am allowed to protest when it might be borderline scandalous.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lukas. I don’t really care. Now, will you do it?”

Lukas holds the paper with the instructions on it and sighs, “Yes, your Highness, I will dye your hair wildfire red.” Bastian grins brightly.

 

They’re in Bastian’s bathroom. Lukas’ fingers are stained with red dye. The whole process had taken far longer than either of them had expected, but Bastian had been unusually patient. He’s sitting in the bathtub, eyes closed as Lukas uses the hair-dryer on his freshly dyed hair.

“Can I see now?”

His patience is apparently wearing out, Lukas runs his fingers through Bastian’s hair, a soft smile on his face and laughs,

“Give me a minute and I’ll be back with a mirror. No peeking, okay?

“Okay, okay, hurry.”

Lukas perches on the edge of the bathtub and holds out the mirror in front of Bastian’s face.

“Open your eyes, dumbass.”

There’s a tightness in his chest as he watches Bastian open his eyes. He has been creating his own catalogue of Bastian’s facial expressions ever since he was a kid, but he can’t quite identify the look on Bastian’s face. Bastian’s eyes are wide as he stares at his own reflection, and there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. It’s almost like Bastian’s seeing himself for the first time, and he’s amazed. He laughs - sharp, short, bright, and delighted. Lukas smothers down the overwhelming love and affection in his chest.

“Holy fucking shit Luki. I have red hair.”

The redness of Bastian’s hair glows warmly under the lights in the bathroom. Bastian’s hair is a fierce bold red against pale skin. The flecks of gold in Bastian’s eyes seem magnified. Lukas thinks that Bastian looks beautiful all the time but, bright red hair brings a certain aggression and passion. He smiles at Bastian and pats his head.

“Yeah, you have red hair and I have red fingers.”

Bastian snorts with laughter before squeezing Lukas’ knee,

“Thank you. Oh man, my parents are probably going to freak out.”

Lukas can’t say anything about the statement because knowing the King and the Queen, it was definitely true. The Schweinsteiger’s would not be too pleased about their second son’s new hair colour. Lukas can almost hear them in his head - _why must you be so difficult Bastian?_ Bastian Schweinsteiger, second-in-line to the throne after his brother, Tobias, had been nicknamed the rebellious prince by the media. The hair was not going to do anything towards the erasure of that nickname.

“Come on Basti, let’s get you dressed for dinner.”

“Don’t you mean the next episode of ‘Bastian Schweinsteiger, Problem Child’?” Bastian mutters as he grabs Lukas’ hand and stands up. Lukas squeezes his hand and brings his other hand up to brush a few hairs off Bastian’s face.

“Basti, you’re not a problem child. You’re just -” Lukas pauses, searching for a word that won’t hurt Bastian.

‘Rebellious,” supplies Bastian with a rueful smile on his face. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. Now let’s go shock my parents, shall we?”

 

“Why must you be so difficult Bastian?” The Queen asks, her fingers delicately pressed at her temples.

Lukas congratulates himself on being absolutely spot on with his guess of how the King and Queen would react. Bastian’s glaring at his parents with a scowl on his face. Lukas carefully pours the red wine into Bastian’s glass and returns back to his position, five steps behind Bastian. He’s glad he is Bastian’s personal butler and not the royal butler. That’s job is an absolute pain in the ass. Lukas knows this because his father happens to hold the title of the official royal butler. However, each of the four royals has their own personal butlers. Bastian’s just happened to be Lukas Podolski, his longtime best friend, and since the day, Lukas turned 18, his personal butler.

Miroslav Klose, standing behind the King, raises an eyebrow at Lukas. Lukas can read his expression easily, it’s an ‘I know you are somehow involved in this mess, as usual’. He’s pretty used to being on the receiving end of that particular expression of Miroslav. He’s grown up with it. Lukas grins back at Miroslav, unashamed and pleased. He can’t quite risk sticking a tongue out at Miro, the King might see. He definitely doesn’t want to cause a scandal. Bastian’s already on that.

“Bastian, why did you colour your hair red?” Tobias asks as he eyes his brother from across the table. Lukas notes that the Crown Prince is curious and not exactly mad at his younger brother. Bastian sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, his new bright red hair.

“I want to do stuff for myself. I’m sorry if it reflects so badly on the royal family’s image but I don’t fucking care. Also, it's not red; it's wildfire.” Bastian spits out.

The King bangs his hand down on the table and stares at his son, “I will not have this sort of language at the table. Go to your room immediately.”

“That’s nice.” Bastian laughs bitterly, and then adds, “Fuck off Dad.”

Bastian stands up and walks away from the table. With a sigh, Lukas follows him.

 

Later in the servants’ dining area, Miroslav smiles at Lukas and says, “They’ll come around eventually. You know they can never stay mad at Bastian for long.”

Lukas nods and takes a bite out of the apple pie. Suddenly, there’s a ruckus as someone comes running through the doors and sits down on the tabletop. Thomas grins down at Bastian and Lukas,

“I made the apple pie today. It's good, right? I also managed to break a plate but that’s not important.”

“You’re a clumsy chef but you’re an excellent chef. Even though you’re not actually a chef.” Lukas rolls his eyes as he reaches for his third slice of apple pie. Thomas laughs a delighted braying sound.

“I dabble with other things. But my one true love shall always be horses, the stables and Lisa.” Thomas gives Lukas an impish look, “Just as yours will be his royal Highness, Bastian Schweinsteiger.”

Lukas flushes, “Shut the fuck up.”

Miroslav tweaks his ear playfully, “Poldi, your face is as red as his royal highness’ new hair.”

“Argh, I hate both of you. I don’t have a crush on Basti.” Lukas mutters as he glares down at his plate. His face still feels unusually warm and he knows he’s still blushing. Miroslav leans forward and whispers in his ear, “Be careful, Lukas.”

Lukas goes to sleep wondering what exactly Miroslav was referring to; he thinks that maybe he meant his heart. _Be careful with your heart._

 

* * *

  
**lavender**

  
Bastian finds him in the college library and plops down in the seat in front of him. Lukas is immediately aware of his presence but refuses to look up from his book. He has a test for which he really needs to study. That’s what he was doing in the library, studying, right until the moment, Bastian showed up. Bastian coughs to draw his attention and with a weary sigh, Lukas makes a mental note of the page he was on - 710.

“What’s up, Basti?”

Bastian smirks, “Lavender. Lavender with blond.”

Lukas stares at Bastian in confusion. He vaguely remembers there being a Lavender in his Translation Studies class, but why would Bastian be concerned with her. Unless, she’s a new girl he’s seeing. Lukas clenches his fists.

“I didn’t even know you knew Lavender.”

It’s Bastian’s turn to look confused. He blinks at Lukas, “Who the fuck is Lavender?”

“Uhm, aren’t you talking about the Lavender in my class? Is she your new girlfriend.”

Bastian immediately looks affronted before bursting into a laughing fit. A few students from a couple of tables away glare at them. Bastian’s a Prince, but rules are still rules.

“Silence in the library.” Lukas hissed.

“Lukas, you idiot. When I said lavender, I meant, my next hair colour is going to be lavender.”

Lukas glances at Bastian’s hair. The red colour has faded away. He thinks about dyeing Bastian’s hair again.

“Okay, today evening then.”

“Awesome. You’re the best Luki.” Bastian beams at him, and leans across the table and kisses Lukas’ cheek. Lukas watches him walk away and wonders if maybe he imagined the kiss on his cheek. The memory of the pressure of Bastian’s lips against his cheek is all he needs to know that he’s wrong.

 

“I think I have a test tomorrow. International Relations.” Bastian says as Lukas carefully applies the dye.

“Have you studied for it?”

“Not really. But I’ll ace it anyway.” Lukas doesn’t have to look at Bastian’s face to know that he’s grinning confidently. Lukas sighs, Bastian needs to take college a bit more seriously.

“Please study. I can help you revise for it if you want me to.”

Lukas is curious by the way Bastian’s neck suddenly looks very pink.

“Nah, I’ll manage. By the way, how was class today?”

Lukas’ eyes light up as he tells Bastian of the discussion they had in class about internet linguistics. Bastian laughs heartily when Lukas narrates the joke Per cracked in the canteen. Lukas learns from Bastian that Marco and Mario finally got their heads out of their asses and got together.

The only time when Bastian and Lukas aren’t always together is when they are at university. They don’t really have overlapping classes - Bastian’s a Political Science student while Lukas is in Applied Linguistics. It makes for interesting stories to share with each other at the end of the day.

 

Lukas makes Bastian stand in front of the bathroom mirror this time. He’s actually really pleased with the way his hair has turned out. He can add something else to his ‘things I am to Prince Bastian’ list - hairdresser. Dyeing Bastian’s hair was much easier this time round because he knew what he had to do. He wasn’t going in blind, not like the last time.

“You can open your eyes, your Highness.”

Bastian whoops in delight as he sees himself in the mirror. The lavender is a light pastel colour and Lukas thinks that Bastian looks a bit like a fairy king. His blond roots are showing and there are strands of blond hair peeking through the lavender. It’s a magical look.

“How did you - Lukas, my hair looks fuckin’ amazing. I feel like I can do magic, you know. Such a lovely colour.”

“Colour damages your hair.” Lukas quips, only to be met with a withering glare from Bastian.

“Do I look like I care?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“That’s because I don’t fucking care.”

Lukas rolls his eyes. Watching Bastian’s content expression in the mirror, Lukas thinks that now might be a good time to tell him about Mesut’s request.

“Your Highness, there’s something I need to tell you.” Bastian turns to look at him curiously, a single eyebrow raised.

“What is it?”

“Mesut Özil wants to interview me for the college newspaper since I am your butler.”

“Oh.” Bastian crosses his arms and leans against the basin, “Do you want to be interviewed?”

Lukas shrugs. “I don’t mind it but I’ll give him the go ahead only if you’re fine with it.”

“Luki, you may be my butler but I don’t exactly have control over your life. Do the interview, don’t do the interview, I don’t have a problem with either. But if you give the interview, just tell them that I want to be the first one to read it.” Bastian pauses, his eyes glinting mischievously, “Don’t let it slip that we were each other’s first kiss, though.”

Lukas groans and looks away from Bastian, “Fuck you.”

He’d lived in the castle ever since he was a kid. He remembers being fourteen years old and kissing Bastian in an empty ballroom. One minute, they were chasing each other around the room and the next minute, Bastian had pressed him against a pillar and had kissed him. Lukas had kissed him back. They’d broken apart, breathless and giggly. Bastian had dropped his forehead to Lukas’ shoulder and declared that ‘ _now we’ll always be each other’s first kiss, best friends till the end_ ’. They never mentioned the kiss again. Lukas really doesn’t like thinking about that particular incident.

 

To say that Mesut is delighted when Lukas tells him he’ll do the interview would be an understatement, Mesut is ecstatic. Lukas watches in mild amusement as Mesut punches the air and looks towards the sky.

“That’s it? That’s your only condition? I need to email a copy of your interview to Bastian before anybody else, even before you?” Mesut asks in disbelief. Lukas smirks as he nods his head. It isn’t a difficult condition to meet.

Mesut claps his hands. “Bro, the Prince is fucking cool.”

Lukas feels a faint warmness in his cheeks. “I know.”

 

A couple of days later, Lukas is about to go to bed when he hears the familiar ‘ping’ sound of a notification. He has a new email in his inbox. Reaching for his phone, Lukas sees that it’s an email from Bastian. Bastian’s forwarded Lukas’ interview with Mesut to him. The subject line reads - next colour will be black. The body of the email has a single sentence - I’m glad he talked about who you are as an individual and not your job.”

The interview had been nothing like he had expected. Mesut had gone past Lukas’ title of the personal butler of Prince Bastian. Mesut had offered him a cup of masala chai and had proceeded to ask him about his family, his Polish origins, his interest in linguistics, his college life, and much more. Lukas curls up in his bed and reads his own interview. It is almost like he’s rediscovering himself.

His eyes linger on the last paragraph. 

> 
>     I have one more question for Lukas Podolski, what does he think of Prince Bastian’s hair colour choices? I didn’t think it were possible but Podolski’s smile brightens. Fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, Podolski says, “People really need to get over it. The Prince is having fun, and I’m going to continue helping him do just that.” I can’t help but ask whether he knows what the Prince’s next hair colour will be? Lukas laughs, “Oh man, I have no idea, that’s up to him. All I can say is this - imagine him with jet black hair.”

The next day, Lukas buys a bottle of black hair dye and leaves it on Bastian’s dressing table.

 

Miroslav corners him outside the castle’s library. Lukas tries to make an escape but Miroslav’s grip on his wrist doesn’t relax.

“Lukas, we need to talk.”

“Can it wait?” Lukas attempts feebly. He has a pretty good idea about why Miro wants to talk to him.

Miro shakes his head, “Thomas showed me your interview. Lukas, this might not end well for you. He’s the Prince. I know you’ve been in love with him since forever - since you were a teenager but he’s still a royal.”

“Oh come on Miro, it’s not like he loves me back.” Lukas spits out bitterly. “It’s not like Basti even knows.”

Miroslav’s eyes soften and he pulls Lukas in for a hug, “Silly boy. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

The younger man cries silently, his shoulders shaking as the tears roll down. Miro whispers reassuring words as he strokes Lukas’ back. Miroslav has practically seen Lukas and Bastian grown up together and he thinks that perhaps Lukas is wrong about one of his statements. Lukas isn’t the only one with figurative hearts in eyes. Miro’s just worried that Lukas is setting himself up for his heart to be shattered into a million pieces.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> channel your inner 2007 pete wentz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this was the colour i was most excited to write

 

* * *

 

**raven**

“Okay buddy, you’ve been standing here not-so-subtly staring at Bastian for the past ten minutes. It’s getting a bit creepy. Everything okay?” Marco asks as he swings his arm around Lukas’ shoulder.

“I fucking hate his hair,” Lukas mumbles under his breath. Marco’s eyes widen in surprise and he follows the path of Lukas’ gaze. Bastian’s standing near the fountain, talking to a bunch of people Marco doesn’t really know. Squinting his eyes slightly, Marco makes a low humming sound.

“I don’t know man. I think it’s actually a damn good look. He looks surprisingly hot. Why on earth do you hate it?”

Lukas avoids Marco’s eyes. “That’s the problem. He looks hot.”

There’s silence and suddenly, Marco’s guffawing. Marco clutches his sides as he laughs and laughs. It’s only Marco but Lukas wants the ground to open up and swallow him - he’s red with embarrassment. Lukas smacks him lightly on his head.

Marco smirks and pats Lukas’ shoulder. “I know what you’re problem is. You’re in love. Here’s a word of advice, don’t be like Mario and I were. Don’t wait too long to tell him, it’s the most pointless dance of all time.”

“Remind me again, which one of you is the royal and which one of you is the fucking butler? Oh, that’s right - neither of you.”

“Is that what’s bothering you? Dude chill, I doubt that’s going to be an issue.”

Lukas fixes Marco with a scathing look. “He's a prince. Do you not get the implications of that?”

Royalty is still royalty, even if they attend normal university classes. At the end of the day, Lukas is a member of the royal staff, studying at university with the help of the Servitude Educational Fund. Basti’s grandfather had set up the fund for the royal staff when he was on the throne. If they were interested in studying, he wanted to enable them. The fund is the main reason Lukas could study alongside Bastian.

Marco sighs loudly, “Look, the royal family are figurative heads. Despite all the hue and cry, most people aren’t too bothered about the things the royals do. I mean, there are exceptions but you get what I mean. You should go after him, consequences be damned. He's the love of your life.”

“He's not - Basti’s not the love of my life.” Lukas splutters.

“Yeah okay then. I believe you.” Marco has an expression on his face that indicates that nope, he definitely doesn't believe Lukas.

Bastian suddenly sees the two of them and raises his arm in acknowledgement. Lukas waves back and turns towards Marco.

“I don't want to be another scandal to his name.”

“The most scandalous thing about Bastian right now is his hair. Speaking of which, I hope he's taking good care of it. Hair dye fucks up your hair.”

 

Lukas pauses to appreciate how good Bastian looks in a three piece suit before bowing slightly, “All done, your Highness.”

“Not quite.” Lukas’ head snaps up at that. He'd been pretty sure he had finished dressing up Bastian for tonight’s ball. Bastian picks up something from his dressing table and holds it in front of Lukas, “I need you put this for me.”

It's an eyeliner pencil. Lukas turns it over in his hand, it's obviously of a reputed make-up brand.

“Are you trying to channel your inner 2007 Pete Wentz?”

“That's what I was aiming for.” Bastian smirks.

Lukas takes a deep breath to steady himself. His fingers are trembling slightly. He cups Bastian’s jaw with his hand. It feels oddly intimate. He concentrates on keeping the flush off his face.

“I'm warning you, though, I haven't done this before and I might stab you in your eye.” Lukas awkwardly smiles.

“You won't.” Bastian’s watching him with an unwavering gaze.

The eyeliner pencil feels unwieldy in his fingers. Lukas shakes his wrist about till he gets used to the pencil in his hand. He experimentally draws a small line on the inside of his left wrist. The eyeliner is a rich smooth black. He just hopes that he doesn't accidentally stab Basti in the eye. He tries to remember the times he saw his mum and sister apply their make-up.

“Uhm okay, Basti, can you close your eyes for me?” Bastian's eyelids flicker shut. Lukas finds himself staring at the smattering of freckles on Bastian’s cheeks and nose - they're like tiny stars. Lukas feels his face heat up because of his proximity to Bastian’s face.

Adjusting his fingers so that his thumb and forefinger rest gently on Bastian’s cheekbone and temple, Lukas calms himself down. “Listen, I’m about to put the eyeliner. Relax, okay?”

Lukas carefully draws two lines around Bastian’s eyes, using a cotton swab, he artfully smudges the eyeliner. He knows this is the look Bastian’s aiming for.

Lukas steps back. “Look at yourself.”

Bastian grins at his reflection, “Looking good, man.” Then, he winks, at himself. Lukas rolls his eyes.

“Get over yourself.”  
  
The door suddenly swings open and Tobias walks in. “Basti, do you have a purple - oh my fucking god, are you wearing eyeliner?”

Bastian smirks.

“Do you plan on coming out to the public today? Tobias asks, and adds, “All of us are getting kinda tired of all those rumoured princesses you’re supposedly dating. Papa found one of those reports in the papers and he laughed and laughed. According to some mistaken journalist, you’re engaged to a princess from Serbia.”

“Eyeliner doesn’t make me gay. I’m bisexual, you know that. And guy-liner is fucking great.”

“I bet you’re enjoying this,” Tobias says to Lukas, a grin on his face. Lukas shifts uncomfortably in place, he really doesn’t like that knowing glint in Tobias’ eyes.

“Go away, Tobi. You have a ball you need to get dressed for.”

Tobias saunters out of the room after he steals one of Bastian’s purple ties. Bastian watches him go with fond exasperation. Bastian settles down in a chair and pulls out his phone.

“Luki, I had a conversation with Miroslav the other day.” Bastian’s still staring at his phone intently. Lukas freezes at Bastian’s words. Oh shit.

“Yeah? What about?”

“He just asked me about university and a bunch of other stuff.” Bastian pauses, as though searching for his next words, “Poldi, what do you think about romantic relationships between royals and commoners?”

“They’re unacceptable.” The words are prompt from his mouth. He feels like his words are laced with venom. Something shifts in Bastian’s expression and Lukas thinks he looks disappointed, but that can’t be right. Bastian looks up at Lukas, his eyes steely and almost cold.

“Okay then. That’s all I needed to hear.”

 

At the ball, Lukas watches Bastian dance with Mario Gómez, a prince from the neighbouring kingdom. He ignores the uncomfortable flame of disappointment and jealousy. Miro briefly squeezes his arm as he walks past Lukas, a hint of worry visible in his eyes. Lukas watches as Mario whispers something into Bastian’s ears, and Bastian nods his head. Lukas’ eyes prick with tears as Mario and Bastian quietly slip away from the party.

He isn’t particularly looking forward to waking up Bastian the next day.

 

Lukas knocks once on Bastian’s door before pushing the door open. Bastian’s probably still asleep. Asleep with Mario, his brain helpfully supplies. Lukas stops short in surprise as he takes in the scene before him. Bastian’s awake and shirtless, with the bedsheet up to his waist; and he’s watching Lukas. He’s also alone in bed, but he clearly wasn’t alone last night. There is a trail of bite marks from his necks leading down towards his navel. Lukas can't avert his eyes from the slowly darkening bruises - Mario's work.  
Lukas swallows nervously. “Your Highness, here’s your breakfast. Do I need to arrange breakfast for Prince Mario?”

“Mario left already.”

“Will we be seeing more of him?”

“No, that was a one time thing. I’d forgotten how good sex feels.” Bastian’s smiling but it seems forced, his smile doesn’t sit right on his face. Lukas tries not to think of all the men and women Bastian’s had sex with. As he pours a cup of tea for Bastian, Lukas wonders if maybe Bastian actually really liked Mario, that might explain why he seems a little bit off.

Lukas doesn’t look at Bastian as he says, “You must really like him. Maybe you’ll run into him again...” His heart feels like it’s shattering.

“You think I like Mario?” Bastian asks, his voice betraying his disbelief.

“Uhm, yes?”

Bastian shakes his head. Lukas notes that he’s smiling more like himself - More teeth, crinkly eyes.

“God, you’re such an idiot, Poldi. Forget it.” Lukas waits for Bastian to say something more, to explain himself, but Bastian just continues eating his breakfast. He feels slightly clueless.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh come on, poldi


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> peroxide princes shine like shark teeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the love, guys. here's the final chapter.

* * *

**peroxide blond**

 

The thing is, Bastian and he haven’t really talked properly in a while and it leaves Lukas feeling extremely unsettled. He puts down the empty hollow feeling in his chest as a side-effect of how much he misses Bastian. They still go about their normal routine, Lukas performs his butler duties, they go to university; but something is obviously off.  It’s almost like they’re both tip-toeing around each other, walking on brittle ice. He’s pretty sure the last time they had an actual conversation was the morning after the ‘Mario incident’, as Lukas had dubbed it in his head.

Lukas scowls down at his textbook. He’s studying at a table in the servants’ dying area, or at least, he’s trying to study and not think about Bastian. Bastian’s currently not in the palace, having left the palace soon after lunch without mentioning a thing to Lukas. Lukas drums his fingers furiously against the table; he’s Bastian’s butler, it’s his job to know Bastian’s whereabouts. He hears footsteps approaching him.

“Why are you moping?” Lukas groans in frustration when he hears Miroslav’s question. Miro’s the last person he wants to deal with right now. Lukas ignores Miroslav and stares at his textbook harder, who knows, maybe something will go into his head. Miroslav sits down in the chair in front of him and waits patiently. He’s Miroslav Klose, the epitome of patience. After five minutes of silently staring at each other, Lukas concedes defeat, fucking Miroslav Klose.

“It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” Miroslav’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Lukas, what are you talking about?”

“What did you tell Basti? Well whatever it was, thanks a lot. Now we’re barely talking and it’s awkward as fuck.”  

“I noticed.” Miro deadpans, then his eyes soften as he asks gently “What did you do, Lukas?”

“It’s not my fault,” Lukas mumbles.

“Poldi, what happened?”

“I think I fucked up on the day of the ball cause he’s been distant since then. Umm, he randomly asked me what I thought of relationships between royals and commoners and I said that they’re unacceptable.” Miro’s mouth forms a perfectly shaped ‘O’, he’s clearly surprised, but Lukas isn’t done as yet.

“Because technically, they are unacceptable to the general public, right?. People aren’t that willing to accept a prince stooping below his class level. It’s not that I have a problem with them, I’m the last person who’d have a problem with, obviously.”

“Wow, you fucked up,” Miro says dryly.

Lukas ignores the comment and carries on, “And now that I think about that conversation, why would he ask me that? This is all your fault because he said something about you having a talk with him? Seriously, what did you say to him.”

“I told him not to hurt you, but maybe I was warning the wrong person. Fix your shit, Lukas,” Miro says, his voice sounds like he doesn’t know whether to yell at Lukas or to laugh. Lukas thumps his forehead against the table. He still didn’t get it, why had Bastian asked him that question? Lukas feels like he’s missing an important piece of the puzzle.

Miro sighs and rests his chin on his palm, “Lukas, you’re not missing anything.” Lukas gapes at Miro in wonder, the dude’s psychic. “Everything you need to know is in front of you, you’re just blinded by obliviousness.”

“Basti asked me about royals and commoners. Why?” Lukas mulls over the thought. He thinks about everything leading up to the question, and also the aftermath - the eyeliner application, Tobias’ entry, Bastian’s question, his expression at Lukas’ response, Mario, the morning after the ball. Lukas’ eyes widen, no _fucking_ way.

Miro throws his arms up. “Fucking finally. Now he gets it. The Prince likes you, and you like him back, but guess what? He doesn’t know that. The two of you are idiots pining for each other when y’all could just talk.”

“I need to find Bastian.”

“I think he went to the salon to dye his hair.”

Lukas feels like the rug has been pulled from under his feet. “He went _where_?”

 

It’s not that he’s jealous. Okay, maybe he’s a little bit jealous, but it isn’t like he has the sole rights to dyeing Bastian’s hair. He’d just assumed that it was _their_ thing, something sacred and just for the two of them - a _BastianandLukas_ thing. Apparently, Bastian thought differently, which would explain why Bastian now had blond hair - blond hair that Lukas hadn’t helped dye. Lukas doesn’t realise he’s glaring at Bastian’s hair until Bastian coughs nervously.

“What is it? You don’t like it?” Lukas is amazed to note that Bastian actually sounds anxious.

“You dyed your hair.” Lukas mentally berates himself for that statement, he sounds so stupid. Obviously, Bastian dyed his hair, he didn’t just magically become an ice-blond.

“Bleached it actually.”

“Right.”

It’s not that it’s a bad look, it’s actually quite the opposite. Bastian looks ridiculously attractive - bleached blond hair that he’d obviously been running fingers through because it’s slightly spiked up. It’s like a lighter, brighter version of Bastian’s natural hair colour. Bastian got his hair bleached at the salon. Lukas thinks about the stranger who washed Bastian’s hair and bleached it and then blow-dried it. Lukas grits his teeth, he’s not jealous. Bastian self-consciously touches his peroxide blond hair, and Lukas is reminded of something.

“Peroxide princes shine like shark teeth.”

“Stop quoting Fall Out Boy at me.” Bastian snaps, but there’s no heat behind the words. Lukas smiles shyly at Bastian, he’d missed the casual relaxed banter they shared. His mind drifts back to the conversation he’d had with Miro in the dining area, Bastian likes him. Lukas feels his cheeks heat up. He and Bastian really need to talk.

“Basti, the day of the ball…” Bastian’s eyes flick up to Lukas’ face. The change in his expression is instantaneous, his eyes close off. Lukas shakes his head furiously.

“No Basti, don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. Please just listen to me.” Lukas presses the palms of his hands together and closes his eyes, “The day of the ball, you asked me what I thought of relationships between royals and commoners, and I said that they’re unacceptable. I didn’t mean that I’m against them, I meant that people don’t accept it willingly because it’s still a union between a royal and a commoner. Class exists. But, that wasn’t the only question you were asking me that day. You left a question unasked.”

Bastian’s hand is suddenly on his face, fingers gently below his jaw, “Luki, look at me.”

Lukas opens his eyes to find Bastian watching him with uncertain but hopeful eyes.

“Luki, I’m going to ask you that question now. Suppose I told you that I was in love with you, what would you say?”

“Yes.”

The corner of Bastian’s lips curl up, “Yeah?”

Lukas chooses not to answer that question because Bastian’s lips look really inviting and he really wants to kiss him. Lukas tilts forward and captures Bastian’s lips with his own. 

He’s fifteen years old again and Bastian is his first kiss. Lukas remembers what that kiss had felt like - diving into ice cold water, jumping off a cliff, bigger than the two of them combined. This kiss is different. Bastian has him backed up against the dressing table, his hands are on Lukas’ hips and he’s holding onto Lukas as though he’s afraid he’ll disappear. They’re twenty-one years old and kissing Bastian feels like drifting through space, summer mornings at the beach, the universe spilling out of them. It feels like rushing headfirst into something, it feels bigger than the two of them combined.

Bastian breaks the kiss and he’s breathing heavily. Lukas smiles at him shyly.

“Hey Basti, I don't think I've ever told you this but I love you.”  Bastian laughs brightly and buries his face against Lukas’ neck. 

Bastian presses a kiss at a point below his ear.

“Just so you know, this is not going to be a problem. My parents already knew about us. All your royalty and commoner worries were for nothing.”

Lukas splutters, “Excuse me, what the fuck?”

“Yeah man, they know you like me, and that I like you back. They approve. They're chill like that." Bastian kisses Lukas on his neck.

“ _Ohmygod_ , the King and Queen know?” Lukas is absolutely mortified. 

Bastian glares at him, “Seriously Lukas, can we stop talking about my parents. I kinda want to get back to making out.”

“But -”

Lukas never gets to complete his statement because Bastian’s kissing him. Lukas melts into the kiss, Bastian definitely knows how to shut him up.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that this isn't the best piece of writing but i'm so so happy about the fact that i wrote something and completed it - and i had a lot of fun writing this. you can find me on [tumblr](http://www.normalplaces.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos and critique will be much appreciated. thanks.


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